There and Back Again: the Screenplay
by Inconsequential
Summary: Bilbo Baggins tells his adventures to the world... with a little help from Peter Jackson and the cast of the Lord of the Rings movies.
1. Prologue

**Prologue:  
**BILBO BAGGINS sits in a comfortable chair outside of a beautiful GARDEN. GANDALF THE WHITE is beside him, and they are comfortably smoking their pipes and chatting companionably. You cannot tell, but they are in the Gray Havens, which are actually more greenish once you get up close.  
Bilbo gives a sigh of contentment and looks at Gandalf happily.   
Ah, this is the life, my old friend, he says cheerfully.  
They sit for a moment in silence, before Bilbo eagerly breaks in.  
So, Gandalf, how have your travels in the outside world been? he asks. Gandalf has just come from a journey to the world beyond Valinor, and Bilbo is very curious.  
Gandalf sucks on his pipe a moment, deep in thought.  
My dear Bilbo. He pauses a moment. Much has changed in the world since you quit Middle Earth for the Havens.  
Whatever do you mean, Gandalf? Bilbo exclaims, surprised.  
Time... runs differently there than it does here, Gandalf says. Many, many years have passed in the outside world, though only a short time has gone by here. The year, by the reckoning of the people of the outside, is 2001.  
Over six hundred years by the Shire calendar? Bilbo cries, startled. How is that possible?  
Gandalf slowly shakes his head.  
Nay, Bilbo, it is far, far more than that, the wizard says ponderously. Middle Earth is no more. The race of men is greatly changed.  
Middle Earth is no more? This is dire news! Does anyone live, now, to remember us?  
A faint smile touches Gandalf's lips as he exhales some of the pipesmoke.  
Indeed, there was one, he murmurs. A great writer and scholar called Tolkien told your tale, and that of your nephew Frodo and his journey to Mordor. He is dead, now, but his legacy is carried on by some...  
What? Tell me about this Man! Bilbo exclaims excitedly.  
He is a movie director by the name of Peter Jackson, and he seeks to set down the tale of your nephew, and the rest of the Fellowship, for all to see.  
Bilbo is confused, wondering if, at his age, his hearing is finally failing. After a pause, he speaks:  
Er, Gandalf, my dear fellow, what is this moviedirector' word mean?  
Gandalf chuckled, looking at Bilbo, who wears a concerned frown on his face and is rubbing his ears with his hands.  
A movie director, Bilbo, is a form of Wizard. He creates moving images to show on a screen, like a Palantir, though not as dangerous. The images tell a story, like a book, only far more real. They are called movies' and may, like any magic, be used for good or ill.  
But will this one about my Frodo be for good? Bilbo asks, distressed.  
My dear Bilbo! Gandalf laughs again. That is up to you.  
Bilbo shakes his gray head. I am old, Gandalf. I am not the spry Hobbit you sent on that first adventure all those years ago.  
Oh, this Quest is not so dangerous, Gandalf comments. I am quite sure this director fellow could manage without you to make a perfectly decent movie of the adventures of the Fellowship.  
Bilbo frowns for a moment.  
The adventures... of the Fellowship? he asks, a spark coming back into his old eyes. What of my adventures with the Dwarves? What of There and Back Again'? Will that be left out, and forgotten for bigger adventures while the world overlooks Hobbits yet again?  
Gandalf's kind gray eyes twinkle at Bilbo.  
Not if you can help it, my old friend, he murmurs to himself. Then. more loudly, he says to Bilbo, You are going to journey to a place on outer Earth away from Valinor. This place is called New Zealand, and there you may aid the movie director and perhaps give him some direction of your own.  
Bilbo looks at Gandalf for a moment.  
Aren't you coming with me, then? he asks uncomfortably.  
I am sorry, dear Bilbo, Gandalf tells him. You must do this task on your own.  
Bilbo nods.   
All right then, he says matter-of-factly, Time to go and pack, I suppose.  
He hops off his chair and walks off slowly, Hobbit-feet padding through the lush grass of the garden.  
Gandalf looks after him with a smile.  
My old friend, he says softly, Once again a Hobbit shall shape the events of the world of Men. I wish you the very best of luck.  
With a whirl of robes, he is gone to other work which does not come into this tale.  
After two days of packing and farewells, Bilbo sets out in a gray ship, bound for New Zealand.   
  
  
**Disclaimer:  
** Speaking as the narrator, I own neither Tolkien's books (though I have a few battered copies lying here and there) or any of his characters. I do not own Peter Jackson or the Lord of the Rings movies, including all actors therein. I owned Bilbo Baggins for a brief time, having won him in a card game against Lobelia (to whom he had lost himself the previous week), but she promptly won him back and sold him to Tolkien, to whom he now belongs and always will.  
  
**Author's Note:**  
Though I, the narrator, narrated this part of the tale, the rest will be told be Bilbo. He will speak about meeting with the the director, crew and actors of the Lord of the Rings movies (and other events he has asked me not yet to divulge) and I will recount the tale as he gave it to me to transcribe for you, my readers. It may take some time to transcribe, for Bilbo is a very exacting fellow and does not give me his writings until they have undergone many rewrites and revisions, but never fear. The story will be told, for all the world must know of the Hobbits and their greatness.


	2. Chapter One: The Adventure Begins

**Chapter One: The Adventure Begins**  
**  
Bilbo's Journal**   
_As I sit here in my chamber on this gray ship, I ponder what will happen once I reach my destination. What does the world know of Hobbits now? What do they know of me? So my writing starts, slow and cramped as I am slightly sick from the tossing of the ship. It reminds me of those days of my adventure, when I gained the title Barrel-Rider'. Ah, yes. It seems a funny tale now, looking back, though at the time I was miserable and wet.   
I wonder how my nephew is getting on without his old uncle Bilbo. I'm sure Sam will stay with him, he is a steadfast friend. My thoughts are wandering now, it is this fog which shields Valinor. It confuses the most able-minded among us Hobbits, Men and Dwarves, the rare few who come, at least. The Elves seem unaffected, yet just smile when I ask their secret. Ah well. Though this journal entry does not make logical sense, I feel compelled to place it in my story. It is, after all, the first I have written of my new adventure._  
****************************  
**The Story**   
Several days after I wrote the above journal entry, I neared New Zealand, to see a strange, flying metal bird hovering over the coastline! It glints in the sun, and I feel a poem coming to me... but I will not tire out my readers as yet. I know Pippin always complained about my poetry.  
Well, as the bird was fashioned of metal, I concluded it was a Dwarvish creation rather than a magical one. I later found that what this was indeed the case, though the humans of the world did not give credit to them. In fact, most Men are now not even aware of the existence of the other races! Well, naturally many never knew of the Hobbits, but Dwarves were a notorious race. Yes, much has changed... I did not know it at the time, of course. I was merely intrigued by the sight of the glittering creature in the air.  
My silver ship landed at the coast, and I was surprised to hear the racket coming from the lovely machine in the air. I quickly leapt from the ship- the Elves must keep reminding me never to call their _cairath_** - and, bearing what belongings I believed I would need, stepped ashore. The ship, when I turned my head to take a last look at it, had disappeared back to the mists. I most sincerely hoped it would return by the end of the quest. As it turned out... ah, I am getting ahead of the story.   
I walked through the sand on the shore, which was damp and stuck to the hair on my feet. I was glad I had remembered my brush. I walked up the bank and into the lush green grass. The landscape much reminded me of Middle Earth. Could it truly be gone? But then, there was the metal bird, and Gandalf would not speak an untruth.  
Fairly soon the verity of his words was confirmed. A group of Men walked up to me, similar to those I had known in Arda*, but their garb was strange! One was short and almost Hobbit-like, though he had a beard. He wore very short pants and what seemed to be a nightshirt with lettering on it. I later learned it was called a , apparently named after the letter of the English alphabet which it resembled in shape. Of course, you know this. I keep forgetting. Forgive an old Hobbit his blunders.  
Well, the others with the Man held strange contraptions, which I soon learned were called At the time they seemed quite strange to me: dark boxes mounted on sticks, with a glass window which showed only black on the other side. They were all dressed in a similar fashion. At first they did not notice me; many do not give us credit for it, but Hobbits can be quite light-footed and inscrutable.  
When they did, the Man in front gave a start, peering through the mist which lingered over the area (it was at this point quite early in the day; the sun had just pushed its way over the lip of the horizon).  
Who's there? he called, and to my intense astonishment, I found I could understand his words!  
I cleared my throat, finding it strange to speak in a language I did not know. To this day I cannot fathom how I understood him or was able to communicate. It's Bilbo Baggins, if you please. And you are?  
Oh come on, Ian, what are you doing out here in costume? he asked, laughing. You know the shoot doesn't start for a week.  
I paused, confused. I am not this Ian' that you speak of, good sir. My name is Bilbo Baggins and I come from a long way away. Originally I was from the Shire, but I hear that is no more. And, I continued, trying to be polite, You still have not given me your name.  
I heard muttering among the Men, and a burst of muffled laughter. I waited patiently. Undoubtedly they found my appearance here unbelievable; I understood, as I did too, but this was the only way I could think of to go about making introductions.  
Finally the Man in short pants stepped forward, and a blinding light was trained on me. I found it quite disconcerting at the time, though I quickly got used to the beam of the camera during my stay in that land. I fought to keep from blinking at this light, the brightest I had ever seen save, perhaps, the fireworks of my good friend Gandalf.  
The Man stared at me for a moment, then turned back to the others, who were all gaping at me as though I were a particularly vicious Orc rather than a harmless old Hobbit.  
Well, he isn't Ian, the Man said, turning to the others. None of them moved, and I was struck by the humor of the situation: perhaps fifteen men shrinking in fear and astonishment before me, Bilbo Baggins. I managed to stifle my laughter (years of keeping a straight face through the antics of young Merry and Pippin stood me in good stead), and the Man continued after a pause, now talking directly to me. He seemed puzzled, but still purposeful.  
Listen, sir. I'm not sure who you think you are-  
I am Bilbo Baggins. I interjected.  
Bilbo Baggins is a fictional character, he explained, seemingly attempting to be patient but looking rather nervous.  
Well, here I stand. I was running out of patience by now. Those bright lights were rather getting to my head. At that point one of the other Men pushed his way forward, staring down at my admittedly rather unkempt feet.  
he said, pushing past the Man who was talking to me, I don't think those are fake. He reached for my feet, bending down cautiously before me. Upon touching them, he jumped back in fright.   
Excuse me, sir, that was quite impolite! I was a bit upset. Youngsters have no conception of manners, especially those among Men.  
He ignored me and looked shakily at the man I now knew as   
They're real, all right, he said. I don't know who this person is, but the Hobbit feet are real.  
The Men all stared at me for a moment, and I explained Gandalf's theory of time in Valinor and here. One young Man kept snorting in apparent disbelief, so after a time of listening to what sounded like a sick pony neighing, I politely asked Peter if we could retire to a more private setting and discuss my Quest at length, perhaps over second breakfast. It had been over two hours since my last meal on the ship, and I was eager to see what manner of food they had in this place- New Zealand, as Gandalf had named it.  
He agreed, and soon we were seated in an odd house, seemingly made of a single huge stone, and I was tucking into a plate of toast and an odd, flat pastry. All in all, it made a rather meager second breakfast, but I didn't complain. Instead I spoke to the Man Peter between bites, and he listened first skeptically, then eagerly, as I told him my tale and my current Quest.....  
  
*Arda means Middle Earth  
**_cairath_ is a Sindarin (common Elvish) word, meaning ships in general; all ships  
**  
Disclaimer: **I have yet to win the rights to myself back from Tolkien, and it now seems unlikely as he has passed from this world. In an alarming new development, I have learned that the moviemaking company has also gotten the to me, Bilbo Baggins. Again, to repeat: I do not own any of the other characters in this story, and it seems that through all these complex legal issues I will never entirely own myself again. I may even have to follow my nephew Frodo's example and sell pieces of myself; he made a sizable profit off his finger, in the sense that Sauron was defeated.   
Alas, I fear my silver spoons are also lost forever, as Lobelia and indeed all of Middle Earth are gone now. Good-bye, spoons.


	3. Chapter Two: Many Meetings

**Chapter Two: Many Meetings  
** And so, I finished, looking at Peter (he had asked me to call him by that name), That is how I came to be in this place. The full details of my Quest are unclear; perhaps if you shared the details of your own Quest, the purpose of my journey here would become clearer.  
He sat deep in thought for a moment, hands clasped over his knees as he sat on his chair, looking down at me. Finally he spoke.  
Mr. Baggins, he said, sitting up a bit, I'm making a movie. A movie is, em, like a Palantir, sort of, he colored at this, for some reason, and I felt compelled to interrupt.  
Yes, yes, I butted in hastily, Gandalf has told me of these movies.   
So you know how they're made? he said, looking at me in either awe or skepticism.  
Well, he may have left that bit out, actually, I muttered.  
he said, laughing a bit. Basically how we do it is by using cameras- those things you saw before-  
Ah, the ones with the strange windows? The black things? I was a bit confused as to how these objects could create a movie, and I believe he sensed it.  
Well, yes. What they do exactly is kind of hard to explain... I'm not sure you would understand... he sat in thought for a moment, then went on, Let's just call it a kind of magic, and leave it at that.  
I nodded; Gandalf had told me as much.  
So, I am using these cameras to make a movie of the adventures of the Fellowship of the Ring. You know- your, er, nephew, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and Boromir.  
I was confused for a moment. They are here as well? Frodo and Gandalf? I thought Aragorn and Boromir were dead, as well as Meriadoc and Pippin, I swallowed a lump in my throat- their loss was still very near, and the rest I just left in the havens!  
he looked uncomfortable for a moment. We're using different people to play their parts in the movie. He cleared his throat.  
Oh, like actors! I exclaimed.  
Well yes, exactly! he said more happily. How do you know about-  
Why, it's just like the Shire Festivals.* We have- had plays there, though no movies, and we had Hobbits who would pretend to be Men, or Dwarves, and as I recall master Pippin made a delightful Dragon one year. I paused. So, how are you to find Hobbits, Elves and Dwarves to play the appropriate parts in the movie?  
Oh, there aren't any here, of course. Didn't, uh, Gandalf tell you? We're just using people, I mean, Men, to play all the roles.  
But how is that possible? I asked in astonishment. Men are so much larger than Hobbits, and they lack our feet. I looked down at my own now-tidy feet (I had groomed them before eating).  
Peter threw his hands up helplessly, It's another kind of magic we can do with cameras.  
All right, I said, knowing I hadn't been told half of the story. No matter, no matter. One thing one learns with age is how to stem one's curiosity. I continued nonchalantly,  
how exactly do you deal with the matter of feet? And what of ears?   
he said, laughing, I'll show you our makeup trailer. I think most of the actors are there, you can meet them, too. We'll have to take the helicopter, though, to get to the park where we have the trailers set up. he paused. Oh well, I was going to there today anyhow.  
I didn't like his impudent tone, and I felt my brows begin to lower in a frown, but I stopped myself. After all, the customs now could be different. I wondered at this helicopter' and was astonished to find, when Peter took me to it, that it was the large metal bird I had seen earlier! I entered it with some trepidation, though it turned out to feel quite safer than flying towed along by an Eagle. It was quite a bit noisier, though, and by the time we arrived at the park I was altogether deafened.  
Leading me out of the contraption, Peter shouted something I couldn't quite make out.  
I yelled back over the sound of the helicopter. He made motions with his hands as though to follow after him, and I did so. We had landed in a forested area with a dirt path, very familiar looking actually. I walked beside Peter to some large helicopter-like machines which sat on wheels like big, metal carts. These were the trailers Peter had spoken of, of course. Inside and all around the area were Men of diverse appearance, practicing with swords. Actually they weren't very good, but as a polite Hobbit I refrained from mentioning anything about it.  
We landed, as I said, rather noisily, so the Men immediately rushed out to meet us, talking in loud voices I'm sure I would have heard under other circumstances. Hobbit ears, you know, are actually quite sensitive! However, the recent helicopter trip had rendered me deaf for the moment, so I simply stood rather uncertainly behind Peter as he (I presume) made my introductions to the others.  
Eventually my ears cleared their thrumming, and I looked up from rubbing them to see the whole group staring at me, wide-eyed. There were nine, I noticed, and by some chance of Fate, or some other force, they much resembled the nine who had set out to destroy my ring, so long ago! Odd, indeed. One of the Men, a young dark-haired boy, looked just like my own Frodo when he was in his tweens. Now, of course, he is getting on in years- I can't be certain of his age, as time goes by oddly in Valinor, but he must be near a century old by now, and so worn he appears older than I myself do. Dear me, I won't even venture to tell you my own age! I have long since passed Old Took, of course.  
Well, they stood there for a moment longer as I contemplated them- I noticed four small Men, not quite Dwarf-sized but short, who resembled Masters Meriadoc and Peregrin, not to mention Sam and Frodo (whom I had already seen). The others stood a bit farther off, and I was not to notice them until they made their introduction. These four- they were the actors, naturally- in particular seemed less ill at ease with me than the others. The Man who looked like Sam stepped forward first, casting a glance towards Peter, who was prompting the whole group with emphatic nods.  
Um, hello, he said, looking down at me uncertainly, especially my feet. But his eyes were serious and frank, and he continued bravely, though uncomfortably. I'm Sean- I mean, I'm also Sean- he's Sean too, he nodded at a larger Man, and I gave a start! For he was very close in likeness Boromir, at least as far a I recall from the little I saw of him in Imladris. Taking his cue, he too moved towards me, and with a small, uncomfortable bow, introduced himself as Sean Bean, Mr. Baggins.  
I gave him a nod, stifling a laugh at his slightly incredulous and wide-eyed look at me.   
Then in quick succession two young Men- still in their tweens by Hobbit standards- introduced themselves as Elijah Wood and Orlando Bloom. The former was the lad who resembled Frodo, and the latter bore no resemblance to anyone that I thought of, until something in his eyes and face made me think of Elves suddenly, and for no particular reason.  
Standing next to the elven-looking lad was another Man, also young. He started to look at me in a rather insolent fashion over his eye coverings, but I gave him my best stern glare (generally saved for young Hobbit lads who had gotten into the garden) and he stopped and introduced himself as simply very quickly, and gulped. The strange dark eye coverings he wore slipped down his nose and I almost laughed- he was the spitting image of Merry in his youth. Slightly in back of him was another Man- a bit older- who nodded at me and told me his name was Billy Boyd, and seemed serious, though a hint of a smile lingered about his mouth and eyes. Though he was the oldest of the Hobbits, and young Pippin had always been the little one, he did resemble the Hobbit in the way he looked at me, and I choked up a bit.  
There was also a very large Man, who looked merry about the cheeks and eyes. I honestly could not place him; no wonder, as I later found, for who could guess that such a large Man would be acting as a Dwarf? His name was John Rhys-Davies, though at the time, between his deep voice and my ringing ears, I heard something closer to I didn't mention it at the time, as I was glancing past him to a Man, older than the rest. For a moment I thought I saw Gandalf's eyes looking at me, but he moved foward into the light and the illusion was gone. His name was Sir Ian McKellen, (the was evidently a title of sorts in this land) and I gave him a deep nod, which he graciously returned.  
My eyes moved past him to the last Man. My breath caught in my throat for a moment and I stood there, dumbstruck- which is a fairly unusual state of affairs for a reserved and eloquent Hobbit such as myself. There in front of me stood King Aragorn, just as I had seen him last. His hair was shorter and his face subtly different, but there could be no mistaking the keen, piercing look of his eyes. The others were actors- bearing an odd resemblance to people I had known long ago (and indeed know now)- but actors nonetheless. This man- I barely heard him introduce himself as Viggo Mortensen- simply was Aragorn. I blinked, trying to clear my eyes. He inclined his head to me, and I stuttered back my own greetings to the company.  
Oh my, at that point I dearly wished to be back in my nice Hobbit-hole in Valinor (quite cozy, all a Hobbit could ask) with a roaring fire and a cup of tea! So many odd things were happening, I was completely befuddled. Too much, really, for an old Hobbit. Yet I straightened my spine and went about my own introductions. I've had many an adventure in my years, and have learned one can't back down at the first surprise. Besides, I knew Gandalf had sent me here for a reason. So I cleared my throat and began, wishing I had my old ring, just for the assurance the possibility of becoming invisible gave, of course.  
Hello all- my name is Bilbo Baggins, and that's either Mister Baggins or Bilbo to you, I nodded at them. I am a Hobbit- I heard a slightly incredulous noise come from one member of the assembled group, but, unable to make out who it had come from I simply cleared my throat and went on. I know, many of you Men did not realize Hobbits truly exist. It is true, there aren't many of us now- just myself, my nephew and mayor Sam in the Elves' land-  
I heard Elijah Wood give a gasp at this, and the first Sean's eyes widened, but they did not interrupt me.  
I continued, I think that is why Gandalf sent me on this Quest. As you all should know, thanks to the works of Tolkien, a great author of your time who I hear has told my story and others of Middle Earth, I went on my share of adventures. Hobbits are capable of far more than carrying a Ring! Frodo and Sam were a wonderful pair, and had their own braveries and adventures, I don't deny. Saving Middle Earth is tricky business! But Hobbits have done more than that. I think- I paused, and by reflex cast a glance at Sir McKellen before remembering Gandalf was another person entirely and going on, I think Gandalf sent me here to make my own story, There and Back Again.' I stopped and dug in my pack a minute before bringing out the beautifully-bound copy of the book the Elves had made for me. To make my own story into a movie.  
At this the carefully-held silence the Men had been holding fell to pieces. I heard snatches of conversation which I gathered were not in my favor:  
-is he really-  
-just a publicity stunt-  
His feet!  
-but he looks serious-  
Peter stepped in front of the babbling throng (only Mr. Mortensen and Ian McKellen stayed silent) with his hands raised for quiet. They all obeyed instantly, falling into an organized line with a haste I found amusing.  
Mr. Baggins is truly the man- eh, Hobbit, he says he is, Peter said quietly.  
Elijah Wood looked at me with wide eyes, Sean (the first one) looked down at the ground ashamedly, seemed to be hiding behind his eye coverings and Orlando Bloom narrowed his eyes at me. The others simply stood still.  
After taking a long and serious look round the group, Peter spoke again.  
I know I don't tend to go for split-second decisions-   
I heard a definite snort.  
but I think we should listen to Mr. Baggins. I know, I know it seems crazy but- I'm convinced he is right about his, er, Quest.  
Mr. Rhys-Davies folded his arms and looked skeptical at this, but only Elijah Wood spoke up, brow furrowed in seeming confusion.  
But Peter, he interjected, What'll this do to our movie? I mean, you can't be saying you're starting another picture right now? My contract is only for three... His eyes darted around a bit and he seemed rather ashamed under Peter's steady gaze. His voice tapered to nothing.  
I don't know what is happening at this point, Peter said. But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Bilbo Baggins, in the flesh. You can understand that, can't you? He looked around at the assembled actors.  
  
*Yes, we had festivals in the Shire celebrating the seasons and other events. Did I neglect to mention it in any of my other books? I will have to remedy that immediately!  
  
**Disclaimer:** I still am bereft of any ownership whatsoever concerning the Lord of the Rings. I quite definitely do not own myself, Bilbo Baggins. I do not own any of the people mentioned in this story and if I portrayed them inaccurately I apologize profusely.  
  
**Narrator:** I apologize for leaving you with something of a cliffhanger. Bilbo is adamant about what he considers good writing. I also apologize for the long delay in updating, and it is in no way Mr. Baggins' fault (I say this for legal reasons- he's gotten pretty well-versed in our laws through a long time spent trying unsucessfully to buy himself back). 


	4. Chapter Three: Council Around the Artifi...

**Chapter Three: Council Around the Artificial Fire  
**  
Well, I'm for it! shouted Orlando Bloom, waving his hands around in a wild manner. He seemed a bit odd to me; not at all Hobbitish. Still, Men were more adventurous than Hobbits, for the most part.  
  
pushed his eye coverings to the top of his head and looked at Peter.  
So, what'll we do about all this? he asked. Do we just go home, then?  
  
Orlando, still looking quite wild-eyed and excited, broke in before Peter could answer, flinging his arms across Dom's shoulder and grinning.  
'Course not! he said, We can act in this one too, can't we then, Pete?  
  
Peter looked stunned a minute, then smiled. All the other actors looked uncertain for a moment and watched him expectantly. He cleared his throat, smiled around at the company, and spoke again.  
If you all wouldn't mind, I think doing this project could help bring up together as a company. And where else am I supposed to get such a crew of dedicated actors as I've been working with here?  
  
Sir Ian, Mr. Rhys-Davies and both Seans all looked uncomfortable. Aragorn, I mean to say Viggo Mortensen, stayed quiet at the back next to Sean Bean.  
What roles do we have, then? the first Sean (I later found his name was Sean Astin) asked tentatively.  
  
I broke in, rather excited if I do say so myself. There were thirteen Dwarves, and me of course, and Gandalf, and Beorn, and a few Elves like Elrond and the Imladris Elves, and King Thranduil and the Mirkwood Elves, and various Orcs, and of course Hobbits, and Wargs and Goblins and Gollum and Gwaihir the Windlord and all the Eagles. Not to mention Smaug, and Bard, and the old Master of Laketown. I paused a moment. However were we to make this come out? Well, if he could tell the Fellowship's tale... I supposed he knew magic which could help, or something of the sort at least.  
  
So are you all interested? Peter asked, picking up where I had left off to muse. Tell you what, let's go to the hotel meeting-room and we can discuss this a bit more, actor to director, all right? He looked about, nodding. All right then, we have three helicopters here. Bilbo can come with me (I groaned at the thought of the noisy machine, and I noticed Sean Bean didn't look to pleased either) and the rest of you, just stay in the 'copters you came over in. Get your things ready in your rooms and then come to the hotel and meet me in the meeting-room in about an hour after we land.  
  
He turned and led me into the helicopter with himself and the people with the cameras, and the rest got into their own respective helicopters. We took off and eventually landed, and to make a long story short, all met in the meeting-room about an hour later. It was very strange and brightly-lit, with a long and extremely shiny wooden table flanked with similarly brilliant wooden chairs. Over the table, a large array of lights, even more brilliant than the gleam of the furniture, hung from the ceiling on a thick metal chain. All of the chairs, of course, were far too low for even a good-sized Hobbit, so I remained standing at first. The only ones at the table at first were Sir Ian, Viggo Mortensen, Sean Bean and Elijah Wood (though he appeared to be asleep at the table, despite the brightness of the room). Mr. Mortensen and Mr. Bean were talking together in low tones, occasionally shooting glances my way. I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable; everything in this world was so strange to me.   
  
Thankfully, Sir Ian noticed my predicament with regards to the chair, and left the room for a moment, to come back with a wooden contraption which I saw had been designed to raise the seat of a chair. As the door closed upon his return, Elijah Wood raised his head up from the table and let out a laugh, looking surprised. I couldn't see what could bring on his mirth, and the words he spoke shed no light whatsoever on the matter.  
Come on! he said, letting out a burst of giggles,You can't give him a booster seat! That's just wrong.  
  
Sir Ian looked at him seriously, then smiled a bit. He looked and acted remarkably like Gandalf for a moment, and then I blinked and the illusion was gone, leaving me to wonder if it was only an old Hobbit's eyes playing tricks on him or whether something stranger was afoot.  
  
Well, would you rather our guest have to stand?He looked at me with Gandalf's usual twinkle in his eye. he said, fitting the device onto the chair and stepping back to allow me to sit. I admit I felt a bit ridiculous climbing the fortified chair, but it put me on level with the world of Men at last. I like to think I was there to start with, though I know I am often judged by my height. I wondered why a booster seat was so funny to them and finally shrugged. The customs of this land were indeed odd.  
  
Eventually, Billy Boyd and walked in, followed by Orlando Bloom. Dom's eye coverings had been removed, and I noticed for the first time that Orlando Bloom's hair had been removed as well, some time ago. I know it is impolite, but I had to stifle a snort of laughter at the sight, reminiscent of the time Merry got it into his head that young Pippin needed a haircut. Following them was John Rhys-Davies, who walked in slowly and sat down at the far end of the table. Last of all was Sean A., as I came to know him, who carefully drew the door shut behind him as he entered and sat between Billy and Elijah. Finally we were ready to discuss the purpose of the meeting, and Peter stood up to speak.  
  
First of all, I commissioned some new scriptwriters to write the script for the Hobbit while the Lord of the Rings script is being continued. All we need to start off is the first scene, and we can take it from there, all right? There was no dissent. I also thought Bilbo could help and fill us in on some of the story, and he'll go to meet with the new scriptwriters tomorrow morning.  
  
I nodded; it seemed a good idea.  
  
Then there is the matter of casting, which is why I brought you all here. I assume you want to take part. Well, there are fifteen major roles, Gandalf and Bilbo of course, and also the thirteen Dwarves, Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur.  
  
Elijah blinked. That's a lot. Are they all different, or what?  
  
Yeah, what're their personality types? put in Dom, grinning for some reason.  
  
Gloin... is the father of Gimli, rumbled John Rhys-Davies. I should like to audition for that role myself.  
  
Let's not get ahead of ourselves! Peter exclaimed. He was smiling nonetheless. I'm sure Bilbo can help us write up a quick review of all of their personalities and looks, right Mr. Baggins?  
  
I nodded again, awed at how quickly he had taken control of my Quest.  
  
And there are other roles as well, right? asked Orlando Bloom. I mean, isn't Legolas' father in there, somewhere?  
  
Yes, he is... but it's not a major role, you know. We'll probably want you all for the Dwarves, and for those of you who do not resemble Dwarves, we have our excellent makeup technicians!  
  
Orlando sat back, looking a bit abashed. The Sean B. asked a question, very sensible of him too I might add.  
  
But there are only nine of us, he pointed out. At this point I felt compelled to break in.  
  
I shall play myself, of course, and Gandalf appears in both tales, so really there are eight of you and thirteen roles to fill.  
  
We could cut some out...said Peter thoughtfully. I was dismayed.  
  
No! That is quite impossible, I stated firmly. Were they here today, they would not wish to be left out of the tale. We shall simply need to find more actors. I nodded my head decisively, a bit red in the face I am afraid.  
  
All right. Mr. Baggins! Peter said, wide-eyed. Though as to you playing yourself, I am afraid you shall have to audition with everyone else in three days.  
  
I nodded thoughtfully. I had never thought of anyone else playing my part, but I suppose someone had to. I could hardly contain my excitement and trepidation at meeting my counterpart in three days. For now, Peter proclaimed the meeting adjourned, and I walked with him to the quarters he had set up for me, muttering to myself.   
  
  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of my own, save the few supplies in my pack and a copy of There and Back Again. I do own what feedback the authors in this library have given me, and am quite thankful at their praise. It is really too much for an old Hobbit, even one as famous as I am. Incurelf, here is the chapter you asked for, and coming next is the Audition. Reliving it will be quite nerve-wracking, so give me a few days to steel myself to the task of writing it down.  
Also I would just like to inform everyone that I have successfully sold half a set of the trout forks.  



	5. Chapter Four: The Audition of the Burra...

**Chapter Four: Audition of the Burrahobbit, and Others  
**  
The days passed by in New Zealand much as they ever had in my old Hobbit-hole in Bag End. I met with the scriptwriters and set down the first few scenes of my adventure. I wish I could tell you about it in detail, but alas this is not the time or place. After that two more days passed, full of new surprises about the outside world. I traveled in the helicopters and saw the landscape from the height of an Eagle, but with far more comfort, and sadly, more noise as well.   
  
On the third day I arose early and paced nervously in my quarters at the hotel. I had been given a private room in a very large inn, which was obviously meant for Big People, but I was fairly comfortable after pushing a stepstool up to the bed and figuring out how to lever the chair at the desk so as to enable myself to write easily. They gave me a , which I could make neither head nor tail of, but luckily there were some modern quills (called ) and I was able to write on the white, thin parchment much as I had in Arda or Valinor.  
  
As I said, I paced nervously around these quarters. Peter had told me to memorize a scene from my book-- easy enough, that, though they used the translation-- but the acting quite confounded me. I made a number of ridiculous faces in the mirror, attempting surprise, fear, happiness, angst, grief, regret and sometimes in particularly desperate moment, a combination of all six emotions. In the end, I decided not to attempt to express emotion, but rather to let it arise naturally, as I read my lines. It had certainly worked for me when I had experienced the adventures; it would have to do now.  
  
The scene I had chosen? Why, the first of the adventure, of course. My talk with Gandalf. How unTookish I was then! I chose it because I suppose I feel this very audition was similar to the talk which began my old adventure. Sir Ian, whom I had met earlier, would be matching me as Gandalf in the scene. I was quite looking forward to it, though it was a bit embarrassing to relive all my uncomfortable s. Ah, well. I was quite young, then. Well, younger than I am now, certainly.  
  
The audition took place at a warehouse nearby the hotel. I was ushered out quickly under the cover of early-morning darkness, as was their practice when getting me out of the hotel. It turns out I am indeed rather well-known here, thanks to Tolkien. I have been reading his translation of my book, and I must say it is quite accurate. In any case, I believe these maneuvers were to prevent my capture, or some such thing. I did not ask; there are some new developments in the world which one does not wish to be made aware of.  
  
In any case, we (myself, Peter and Sir Ian) all drove together to the warehouse to prepare for the audition. Sir Ian seemed quite enthusiastic about the new movie, and read the first few scenes as Peter drove, smiling to himself and occasionally glancing furtively at me. When we arrived, I noted with some trepidation that Sir Ian and I were up to perform first, though he had several other parts as Gandalf to the other auditioners. I gulped at the number of Bilbo's trying out; there were all of forty-seven.   
  
Don't worry, Peter told me reassuringly, noticing my glance at the long list of names, Many we'll have to cut out for having the wrong look, you know, too young or old, or too tall or something. Oh, don't worry, he added hastily at my frown. We have plenty of extra parts for the Hobbits, especially during that auction at the end.  
  
Yes, I remember, I said with a moody glare. Perfectly good set of spoons, gone to Lobelia. Not that she turned out to be entirely the bad sort, in the end, I added com promisingly, but kept my frown.  
  
Well, I wouldn't like to, em, bring anything up, Peter said, hands upraised in a placating gesture. Now, hadn't you better get ready?  
  
I know all my lines, I said, with a tap to my skull.  
  
Er, yes, of course you would. Right, I'm going to see to the others. He left, clutching a large bit of wood with a metal clamp and shouting out instructions to various people. I noticed that among those auditioning were the other eight of the Fellowship actors I had met earlier. Mr. Rhys-Davies was of course auditioning as Gloin, but what surprised me were the others' auditions at various other Dwarves! They did not resemble them at all, but Peter had assured me that makeup was a wonderful thing, these days. Even Orlando, Elijah and Dom, the young lads who had at first seemed skeptical, were auditioning as Ori, Nori, and Fili, respectively. Mr. Boyd wanted the part of Kili, and Sean A. was trying for the part of Dori. Both Sean B. and Aragorn-- I mean, Viggo Mortensen-- wanted Thorin's part, though their arguments over it were good-natured. The others, the actors auditioning to play Oin, Balin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, were wholly unknown to me. I believe Mr. Mortensen was also auditioning for the part of Balin, in case he didn't make it as Thorin. I was quite in awe that Big People could make convincing Dwarves, but then, there were many things about the magic of movie-making which was beyond my comprehension.  
  
There was one event, however, which took my breath quite away. A Man named Ian Holm was auditioning for my part; he played me in the movie about the Fellowship. The surprising thing about the whole bit was that he was almost my double, in build and face, though of course on the whole he was substantially larger. And having just scrutinized all my expressions in the hotel mirror, I could be quite certain of the resemblance. I noted on the list he played my scene with the trolls, that embarrassing bit about the I winced; why had I not thought to cut that out? Ah, well, better to keep the tale of my adventures intact, I suppose.   
  
We didn't meet, not right then. He was preparing for his audition, and I am afraid I was quite lost in the crush of Big People. Finally the time for my audition had come, and I stepped up onto the raised platform of the stage in front of Peter, knees knocking. The backdrop was painted to look like my own Bag End, which made me feel a bit steadier. I pulled out my pipe and lit it, for that is how the scene begins. Peter threw his hands up and laughed, then gently came and put it out.  
  
No real smoking here, I'm afraid, he said. Too cramped in here, and besides it's bad for your health.  
  
I gave him a pointed look; after all, I must be nearly three times his age, and in perfect health. However, I did as he said and let him snuff my pipe, feeling a bit ridiculous puffing out imaginary smoke-rings. I had practiced them, too.   
  
Well, along came Gandalf, as planned, and I yelled out,  
Good morning! with a smile, genuinely glad to see him, though he looked odd without a beard, and only a makeshift cloak and hat flung on haphazardly. I myself wore the clothes I had packed, though Peter had gently but firmly made me wash them in a strange machine after the second day.  
  
What do you mean? he replied, sounding quite as I remember Gandalf sounding all those years ago on that sunny morning in the Shire. Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?  
  
All of them at once! I cried, trying to sound slightly bemused, but nonetheless cheerful, as I had then. And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!  
  
I sat awkwardly; my bones were older than that long-ago sunny day, and the ground was hard stone rather than sunwarmed grass. I mimed blowing a smoke-ring, feeling the fool.  
  
Very pretty! Gandalf went on, eyes twinkling, I think, partially at my blush and partially at the lines he spoke. But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging...  
  
The scene went on, and all in all I did a fine job, quite creditable really, before exiting on shaky legs (presumably into my Hobbit-hole), which I think played quite to my advantage given the circumstances of the scene. How outlandish adventure had seemed at the time!   
  
In any case, I went and got second breakfast after my audition, an odd, shiny round loaf of bread spread with a creamy, white butter-like substance. It was adequate, and even tasty once one got used to the strange, heavy feel of the bread in one's mouth. As I ate, I saw Ian Holm, my counterpart in the Fellowship movie, approach me after a long, whispered conversation with Peter. When I turned around, I saw him give a start, and stare at me with wide eyes. Then he seemed to remember his manners, coming up to introduce himself.  
  
Hello, Mr. Baggins. My name is Ian Holm and I am honored to make your acquaintance, he said carefully, looking a bit wary.  
  
Hello to you as well, I nodded. I hear you play my part in the movie of my nephew's adventure.  
  
Er, yes, if that's all right with you, of course. He seemed uncomfortable.  
  
Of course! I said. I just thought we might get acquainted a bit, to help you in that admirable role, I told him, smiling.  
  
He, too, let a grin creep across his lips. I believe we'll get on very well, Mr. Baggins, he said.  
  
And the same to you, I returned.  
  
He left to give his audition, and I bit nervously into another as the heavy bread was called. I was beginning to quite like the taste- a hint of rosemary, garlic and something else which I couldn't quite identify. So the day passed, slowly in the crowded space. I had conversations variously with both Seans, Billy and finally Elijah, to whom I was beginning to take a liking. They all asked me to call them by their first names. I also had my first talk with Viggo Mortensen, and found him serious and interested in poetry, just as I was! Though his was of a different sort than my own verses.  
  
They each auditioned for the appropriate part, and watching, I saw they were quite talented, though I would need to coach them a bit on the Dwarves' personalities. I saw Ian H.'s audition, and I must say he was even better at playing the role of Bilbo than I myself am! I sighed at that, may I say.  
  
At the day's end, after several meals and more auditions, we were sent away to worry in our homes, or rather hotel rooms, I would suppose. Peter did not speak on the drive back, but rather seemed deep in thought. Sir Ian closed his eyes and rested against the chair in the metal chariot tiredly, and after a bit I did the same. We arrived at the hotel and I was smuggled up to my room, where I fell into a deep slumber without even getting into my night-clothes. The parts were to be announced the following day, and still I had not the energy to fret over it.  
  
What the next day was to bring for myself and my Quest, I could not know.  
  
  
  
**Disclaimer:** **  
**I, Bilbo Baggins, do not own Tolkien's version of my adventures, as set down in the book The Hobbit and quoted at length during my audition. I do own a handsome new set of silver spoons, given me by the crew of There and Back Again: the Screenplay, with which I am pleased to no end. I do not, however, own myself or any people or characters mentioned here. I apologize for the wait you had to endure before reading this chapter, but so is life, and mine has been quite busy of late. 


	6. Interlude: Back to the Land You Once Did...

**Back to the Lands You Once Did Know  
-An Interlude-  
**  
_Bilbo dreamed._  
  
A meeting was called in Valinor. Gandalf had left soon after Bilbo had, in a ship headed in the same dircection. Now whispers of a new evil moved through the community of the Elves. Whispers of a darkness rising on Outer Earth.  
  
The council of Elrond was called. The old Fellowship of the Ring came, as did many Elves, including Glorfindel, Elrond's sons and Celebrian. The older Elves, the Noldor, had no interest in the present Earth. They had faded into the very center of Valinor, into the thickest mists and tallest trees, and cared not for the fate of Outer Earth.  
  
Elrond sat at the head of the Council table in a tall chair, beside his wife. He looked around at the Elves, including Thranduil, Galadriel and Celeborn, humble as emissaries at the Council of Elrond. They had given up their titles for this Council meeting, and deferred to the Half-Elven's judgement with a solemn grace. He saw also the two Hobbits and the sole Dwarf of Valinor, who sat beside Legolas, glaring around at the other Elves. Elrond stifled a brief smile; the Dwarf had still not overcome his natural antagonism towards the Elven race. Well, give it time. Though millenia had passed on Outer Earth, scant seasons had gone by in Valinor. Life had passed, for a time, as it always had in the Elven realms. The land was explored, save in the furthest reaches of the mist.  
  
And then it had come. The feeling of darkness, confirmed by Gandalf. He had gone, traveling into Outer Earth to see if he could remedy the matter. He had not returned, but sent word in the form of a hastily scribbled not placed in the returning gray ship.  
  
He asked for aid from Elrond and his Elves.  
  
Now Elrond Half-Elven sat before the Council and spoke. They all quieted and listened to his words.  
  
You have come here today to face a mysterious evil wholly new to us. I ask that a band of Elves, or other races, he nodded at the Hobbits and Gimli,go to the aid of Outer Earth. As you know, the Hobbit and the Wizard are already there, though to what purpose I cannot say. The will of Er u is mysterious, and none can say if this Quest be dire, but in my heart I feel it is so. Who among us here will go to the aid of the Men and Dwarves of Outer Earth?  
  
Dwarves and Men, one Elf muttered, raising an eyebrow.  
  
What of it? asked Legolas lightly, but a hand rested on his bow.  
  
Nothing, Highness, the Elf muttered, subsiding. But his companion, a young Elf of scarce ten centuries, stood.  
What concern of it is ours? he asked the assembled council. The Dwarves stay in their mines, the men make their own trouble. They have forced us out of Arda. Why should we help them?  
  
Legolas stood, teeth clenched and a hand on his bow, and Gimli stood beside him. Thranduil pressed a cautionary hand down on his son's shoulder and spoke himself.  
  
I thought similarly, at one time, he said simply. We of Mirkwood were not famed for our courtesy towards the other races. But through my son's friendship with Gimli Gloin-ion, I have seen truth. All races deserve life, as far as it is in our power to grant it to them. We are given immortality; we must help others free from oppression and danger in what little life they are granted.  
  
It will mean the lifes of our people, you old fool! the young Elf exclaimed.  
  
And if we do not help, it will mean the lives of their people. Elrond put it. The stituation is dangerous. We have not much information on this menace, but it is striking hard at the area at the so-called bottom of Outer Earth. We believe the source of the evil is far from the area, but it is there that the evil now plans to attack. There are untold thousands of Men and Dwarves in the area. If you wish to consign them to death, so be it. Retreat into the mist, if you will. But we must go on to more important matters. Who will go?  
  
I will take the part of the Dwarves and Men, Legolas said, standing quickly and slipping Thranduil's hand from his shoulder.  
  
And I too! Gimli growled, hands resting on his axe.  
  
The two members of the old Fellowship looked at the Hobbits Frodo and Sam. Frodo looked down at the ground, rubbing the stump of his finger.   
  
_Bilbo, in his bed, thrashed about, muttering the name of his nephew in agonized tones._  
  
  
Sam stood and spoke.  
  
Beggin' your pardon, good Elves,: he said, I'm not goin' to let Mr. Frodo go on this journey. I've been his friend most of my life, and his gardener for a time. He's been through too much; he's tired. Let him stay, I ask you. His task is done.  
  
Galadriel spoke.  
Tha Halfling speaks true. I have seen it. There is only one Hobbit in this new tale-- Bilbo Baggins.  
  
The others were confused at her talk of tales, but nodded, and Sam looked relieved, his hand placed protectively on Frodo's shoulder.  
  
It's all right, Sam, Frodo said, I know I could never make another adventure.  
  
They still tell your tale on Outer Earth, Mr. Frodo, Sam encouraged him, and the Hobbits exchanged a small, worried smile.  
  
Who else will go? queried Elrond.  
  
Elrohir spoke.  
I will go.  
  
And I, said Elladan.  
  
No other volunteered.  
  
Will no one else go, then? queried Elrond, looking nervously at his sons. Elladan was married and had his own young son, so the succession of his line was ensured, but he still worried.  
  
No, I will go to, spoke up a voice.  
It was the young Elf who had spoken against aiding the Dwarves and Men.   
  
Elrond gave him a stern glance.  
You mean this, Antenaear?  
  
_Bilbo awoke in a cold sweat, long before dawn, and left his room to pace the hall. Peter was staying in a room nearby, so as to keep an eye on the Hobbit. Though Bilbo made no sound, by some instinct the Man awoke, and went to his door in his robe, rubbing the sleep from his eyes._  
  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and nobody mentioned here. My left foot ws nice to own, but even nicer was the million of the currency of the Americans which I gained by auctioning it off myself. In other matters, I realize this chapter is somewhat enigmatic. I am not quite sure of it myself; it was an odd dream to have at the time. However, as it turned out... well, I oughn't speak of it yet. Suffice it to say that I shall return to describing the casting and shooting of the initial movie scenes in the next chapter.


End file.
